


Four Time Frank and Joe Should Have Kissed and the One Time They Finally Did

by HuntingHardyGirl



Category: Hardy Boys - Fandom
Genre: Brotherly Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Incest, Just all around adoration, Kisses, M/M, Mentions of incest, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8412070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingHardyGirl/pseuds/HuntingHardyGirl
Summary: Frank and Joe Hardy during points in their lives in which they should have kissed each other the way they always wanted to.





	

They were young, maybe seven and eight, when the topic of kisses first came up between them. It was something they were used to seeing. Laura and Fenton were in love, and greeted each other with a kiss all the time. The people in the movies playing boyfriend and girlfriend kissed during romantic moments. Joe particularly loved the kiss scene in the “Princess Bride”.

They were playing with their toys when Joe suddenly stopped, looking at Frank with his brows furrowed. “What’s kissing like?” he asked, because Frank was his big brother, and big brothers were always really smart, especially Frank.

The elder Hardy looked up, puzzled. “What?”

“What’s kissing like?”

“Why would– How would I know?” Frank asked, baffled.

“Didn’t Callie kiss you on the playground?” Joe asked back, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

“She kissed me on the cheek,” Frank said.

“Yeah, but I meant the kissing that Mommy and Daddy do,” Joe said. “Didn’t Callie kiss you like that?”

Frank felt his cheeks flush. “No, that kind of kissing is different.”

“How different?”

“It’s just… It’s different. It’s for older people and parents. That kind of kissing isn’t for kids like us.”

“Oh.” Joe looked down at his action figure of He-Man, still puzzled. Then–

“Can we kiss?”

“What?!” Frank stared at his brother in disbelief.

“What?” Joe asked back, confused.

“Joe, no… No, we’re brothers.”

“So?”

“So brothers don’t kiss like that.”

“Oh.”

And the subject was dropped.

(*)

When Joe was twelve, he got his first kiss. Vivianne Anderson was pretty, with big greenish grey eyes and her dark hair cut in a bob, which was the IT style for girls these days. She smelled like Starbursts, and her lips tasted like that watermelon lip balm that she applied frequently. She told Joe that she thought he was cute during recess one day, even if he did have braces and a few zits and his hair always looked like he just ran his fingers through it after rolling out of bed. Then she kissed him, and he kissed her back, because he liked her too.

But it didn’t…feel right.

He told Frank about it over the weekend. They recently had to get separate rooms, but Frank promised that Joe always had granted access and so the younger Hardy had no issues flopping across his brother’s bed to tell him about Vivianne.

“It was only your first kiss,” Frank said, flipping through his latest issue of National Geographic. “Maybe you just need practice.”

“That’s not it,” Joe grumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… When you kiss someone you like, aren’t you supposed to feel something? Like fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” Frank finally raised his eyes to look at his brother quizzically. “Joe, that’s not rational.”

“But I like Vivianne! It’s just… The kiss didn’t make me feel anything. No butterflies in my stomach, no nothing. It was like kissing a dead fish.”

“The butterfly feeling is mostly from chemical reactions in your brain when you fall in love with someone,” Frank said, waving his hand in the air. “You’re not mature enough to know what love feels like, only puppy love, and that last maybe a month, or two, if you’re lucky.”

“You’re turning into a huge geek, I hope you know that.”

The brunette shrugged, looking back down at his magazine.

Huffing a sigh, Joe got up only to immediately press against Frank’s side, snuggling up to his brother and relaxing at the familiar touch. “I dunno man, maybe Vivianne and I aren’t meant to be.”

“You’re turning into a hopeless romantic.” Frank pressed a kiss to Joe’s forehead, a quick little motion, but solid enough for Joe to feel it. Instantly he felt a tiny little tremor in his belly, his heart picking up just the smallest amount.

He notched it down to just gas.

 

(*)

 

It was one of their first big cases in home. Bayport had been ravaged by a hurricane already, and people had stolen things from the homes of people who evacuated to the high school for shelter.

Now they were hiding in a crate in a warehouse, hearing people stomping around looking through the many stolen goods, deciding which ones they had to pitch from the flooding and which ones they could keep. Except Frank, now a gangly sixteen year old, was sharing his box with Joe, who had panicked and climbed in after him when they heard the door burst open on the first floor. The struggle now was to stay very very still, and very very quiet.

“Ow!” Joe hissed. “Dude, your foot is pressing into my side!”

“You should have gotten into your own crate,” Frank whispered back. “Shhh!”

“I’m just sayin’–”

“Your talking is gonna get us caught, shut up!”

“Why don’t you make me?”

In their issuing heated yet quiet argument, it was then they realized just how cramped the crate was. Their faces were so close together that Frank could make out details of Joe’s face in the shadows, just barely able to see the deep blue irises, the slope of his nose and the slowly shaping jawline.

There was a new tension in the air between them now, something…foreign. Something they didn’t understand.

Suddenly they heard footsteps heading up the stairs, to the second floor where they were at. Joe gave a small gasp and Frank’s hand shot up to clamp over his mouth, desperate to keep him quiet.

It was so tense then, as they listened to the criminal going through some of the crates, checking to see what was salvageable, and all Frank could focus on was how soft Joe’s lips were against his palm, how the breath from his nose was tickling his skin, sending a weird tingling feeling down his spine. Fuck, fuck, why did his face feel hot? Was this crate getting warmer or was it just him?

After a long wait, the footsteps finally left, going back down the stairs. A muffled conversation, a door slamming and then silence.

When Frank and Joe climbed out of the crate, they didn’t make eye contact.

 

(*)

 

“I dunno Frank, I don’t think we’re gonna make it this time.”

“Don’t say that, of course we will.”

What was worse than being lost at sea? Being pretty much abandoned at sea, in nothing but a life raft, a little bit of food and only three bottles of water. Damn, those drug cartels didn’t mess around did they?

The only bad part was that this was day two for them. Drifting at sea, with no way to call for help except the flare gun they found, but no one else was out this far. The sun was blazing, already tinging their skin pink with an oncoming sunburn, and they had to ration the water. Joe’s lips were already beginning to look chapped, eyes a bit sunken and hopeless looking.

“No one knows where we are,” he pointed out dully. “We’re gonna die out here and no one will know.”

“Aw come on Joe, have I ever let you down?” Frank shot back, feeling how dry his throat was and trying to resist his temptation to drink more water. “I’ll find us a way out of here, I promise.”

Despite the heat, Joe curled up against him, seeking comfort and Frank was more than happy to do so, wrapping his arms around Joe’s waist. It did seem more unfair than usual. They were only eighteen and seventeen, they had so much more to live for! Did they really have to die out here, all alone except for each other?

After a while of silence, Joe sighed a little. “Probably the most boring way to die.”

“Let’s not be so morbid, shall we?”

“Just sayin’. At least I’m not gonna die a virgin!”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you’re worried about the most.”

“…It’s not really. I mean, yeah, I kind of wish I got to *do more* with, ah, certain parts of my life. But I have way more serious stuff I wish I could do before I take my eternal dirt nap.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Things to do. Things to say to certain people. That sort of thing.”

“What would those things be?”

“Well it doesn’t make any sense to tell you what I’d tell Mom or Dad or Aunt Trudy.”

Frank huffed out a laugh. “Alright fine. Got any last messages for me?”

“…More like a question…” For the first time, Joe seemed to be blushing rather than getting redder from the sun, the way it seemed to focus on his cheeks more than anywhere else on his face.

Frank raised his eyebrows. “What would that be?”

“….Are you sure that brothers don’t kiss?”

Grey eyes flashed, locking onto blue and for a good long moment they just stared at each other. All that tension, all those lingering glances and overprotective touches starting to flash through their mind simultaneously. Just by asking the question, they were toeing a line, a line they were almost afraid to cross.

Then the distant blast of a horn shook them from their thoughts and when they sat up and looked around they found a boat, a huge rescue boat, headed towards them. Joe scrambled for the flare gun and shot a flare right into the sky, both of them were waving their arms and shouting as hard as they could, and by some miracle they were seen. They were going to be rescued!

They were going to survive!

 

(*)

 

It took a good solid week for them to really heal from their time at sea. Lots of food, lots of fluid and lots of time to peel off the now flaked skin from their sunburns. But they survived their awful time at sea. Things were finally settling down again.

Frank waited until he knew he and Joe would be alone in the house. Laura and Fenton had gone out for dinner, and Aunt Trudy was at a volunteer meeting at the museum.

Wandering into Joe’s room, Frank leaned against the wall, watching his brother scrolling through his laptop before he finally caught the younger Hardy’s attention. Joe tugged his earbuds out and watched as Frank moved closer, climbing onto the bed beside him.

There was silence for a while. Then Frank turned to look at Joe, taking in the wide blue eyes, the freckles across his nose, the strong jaw and those lips…

Leaning in, he cupped Joe’s cheek, tilting his head back a bit before he kissed him, closing his eyes as he just let the moment happen. Joe went willingly, kissing him back, as they both felt the butterflies, both of them imagining fireworks.

It felt right.

They had to break apart for a chance to breathe after the kisses started getting deeper, more heated. “Brothers can kiss,” Frank said. “But only if they keep it a secret.”

“Fine by me,” Joe replied.

And that was that.


End file.
